I’ve been back from the Television Critics Association summer press tour for a week now, but it’s taken me a while to decompress. Most of all, it’s taken me a while to unpack — not my own stuff, but all the stuff that the networks heaped upon us, purely as tokens of their affection, you understand, and the high regard with which they hold us as human beings.

Yeah, right.

The swag game is that networks give you a lot of stuff, hoping to engender good feelings toward their shows, but knowing that you’re not going to be convinced to like a lousy show merely because you’ve received a package of pineapple Christmas tree lights from the USA channel, or an Elmo doll from PBS.

By the same token, we do have rules in this business: You don’t accept anything expensive. That’s a good rule because it keeps things on the up and up. Even if your online or in-print readers don’t KNOW you turned down that plasma TV on ethical grounds, at least you can feel honest about offering your opinions about a new show.

As for press tour, though, if it were only eight days long, it would have been like Hannukah. Every day, a new present.

But press tour lasts for two weeks, so every day, I’d find myself lugging something odd to my fourth floor room in the Beverly Hilton. In addition to the stuff the networks hand you during the actual sessions, you get an almost nightly room drop, which can be defined as a booty call [with the original meaning of booty, of course].

Among the things that began, far too quickly, to take over my room were: a hoodie from Kelsey Grammer’s new Starz show “Boss,” a small football from “Necessary Roughness,” a wooden box with shaving cream and lotion samples in it from IFC‘s “The Whisker Wars,” a replica Pan Am flight bag from ABC‘s “Pan Am,” a small leather-bound notebook from AMC’s “Hell on Wheels,” a white leather notebook embossed with the word “Enlightened,” from HBO‘s new show with Laura Dern, a six-pack of Miller beer from the National Geographic Channel [which I left in the room], a bath towel from the USA channel, a mug with a caricature of Jerry Lewis on it from “Encore,” two copies of the latest doorstop from George R.R. Martin from HBO [And if I’d flown, the extra baggage charge on those two books alone would have put me over budget], a set of plastic exercise stretchers in a bag marked “Gladiator Starter Kit” from Starz and “Spartacus: Vengeance,” and a plastic drinking cup from the Oprah Winfrey Network with one of those squiggly plastic straws in it that spelled “Rosie” — as in Rosie O’Donnell, who’s getting her own talk show on OWN.

At the end of her chat with us, even Rosie couldn’t resist commenting on the absurdity of that bit of graft: “Please enjoy the straws,” she said, “although I’m concerned about possible brain damage from the sucking so hard to get it all the way through to the end. So use it at your own risk.”

Toward the end of the tour, every time I’d go downstairs in the morning to start another day of sessions, I’d make a detour to the parking garage to dump another tote bag full of junk into the trunk of my car. By the time I left Beverly Hills, the only way I could get my suitcase into the trunk was to move an enormous box of screeners and press releases to the back seat of the car.

There: Consider that full disclosure. As the fall TV season begins, feel free to use the above as a checklist against my forthcoming opinions about new shows.If I end up liking a new show, it will have nothing at all to do with the “Gladiator Starter Kit” or the pineapple Christmas tree lights.